


Remember, Remember

by Shaele



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Angst, Coffee Shop, Dreams, M/M, So much angst, Songs, Yata's adorable, a little OOC since there's no violence, awashima appears for a paragraph, barista that hates coffee, fushimi's a genius, guess the letters, it makes sense but just roll with it, kusanagi too, maybe a teeny bit fluffy?, singer!fushimi, they could just be living really far away too, they get together for like two minutes, two dimensions what, yes I'm making Fushimi sing, you might need to know a little japanese to understand a lot of this oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 09:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5737765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaele/pseuds/Shaele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For nineteen years, Yata and Fushimi have been sharing dreams. Though they live in different dimensions, it's become clear to Fushimi that he's in love with Yata.<br/>And Yata... well, he doesn't remember his dreams. He remembers so little that it never helps him to remember Fushimi, or their time together.<br/>Of course, Yata's not a big idiot, so when he manages to piece together Fushimi's first name, the first thing he wants to do is see this Saruhiko that has no face to define the name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember, Remember

**Author's Note:**

> You'll need to know these two songs, "Cherry Blossom Spell" and "Nee". I personally love Amatsuki's cover of Cherry Blossom Spell and ShounenT's cover of Nee. You'll especially want to listen to "Nee" while reading the ending. To the Miyano Mamoru fans, you might notice something fun among all the singing that's going on.
> 
> Yata and Fushimi's Interview Drama CD makes a cameo here as well.
> 
> This is my first fanfic after 8 years of not writing any, so please enjoy!

            The boy with the black beanie looked at the person standing in front of him. _You say you know me… but who are you? Where are we? Why aren’t you telling me your name?_ It was clear that he was frustrated.

            It was like this every night. He always felt a pang in his chest. Why was there so much pain in a place where the sky was bright and the grass was green? It was the perfect setting for a love story. There was so much beauty in this place that he never wants to leave.

_Why do you look like you’re about to cry?_ The tall figure in front of the boy murmured softly, reaching out to ruffle some of the other boy’s hair. _You don’t even remember the person you’ve-_

Yata woke with a start. He felt as if something was tugging at his heart. He clutched his blanket and tried desperately to calm down. He _knew_ there was something weird about that dream, and that bugged him. _But what? Why? Who is he?_ Yata couldn’t even remember his face anymore.

             “Why… why can’t I ever remember that dream?” He brought his hands up to face, attempting to soothe the frustration and prevent the tears from falling. Flashes of blue and a smile dashed across his thoughts, and he was again left alone to decipher the meaning behind that. It was like this every day. Every. Single. Day.

            He picked up the notebook and pen he kept on the stand next to his bed, and wrote down his thoughts.

            _Streaks of blue, a song, a smile…_

             
_________

 

            Fushimi was sucked out of that dream almost instantly. A tear was running down his cheek. He lay there for what seemed like forever, allowing the overwhelming sorrow to envelop him. “This sucks…” he murmured, clicking his tongue. He remembered the dreams clearly. It always felt like it wasn’t a dream, though. He _knew_ it should be just a dream, but dreams aren’t supposed to feel realistic, and aren’t supposed to make you love somebody so much. “But it’s more of a nightmare,” he mused, “and the poor boy doesn’t remember me at all.”

            It was like this every night. When he would go to sleep he’d be face-to-face with a boy named Yata Misaki. Yata would always come running up to him with a smile that put the stars to shame. He’d always say the exact same thing.

            _“Hi there! May I know your name?”_

            And every time Fushimi heard those words come out of this ethereal image’s mouth, he could feel his heart strain ever so slightly. Every time Fushimi heard those words, he’d always give Yata a small smile and say _“Misaki… don’t you remember me? I’ve always been here for you….”_

            And then Yata would look at him quizzically, and leave it at that. They’d go places together, talk about things together, and just simply _enjoy this dream_ together, and it was always a first for Misaki, even though they’ve been to those places thousands of times and exchanged thousands of words in their dreams together.

            Fushimi heard his phone ringing from across the room, and he slowly got up to answer it.

            “… Hello?” he mumbled, still half asleep despite having been awake for over twenty minutes.

            “You’re late, you know that?” the voice in the phone scolded him. It was Awashima, his superior.

            “Yep.” He clicked his tongue, irritated by the way she seemed to try to mother him. He was nineteen and a genius for crying out loud.

            “Hurry up and get over here!” She practically yelled at him. “We have a deadline today, and another tomorrow! You know how important these deals are to us.”

            “Yes, yes.” He dropped the call and put his phone in the pocket of the coat that was hanging on the wall. He quickly went through his morning routine, and after cleaning his glasses he was ready to go. Fushimi opened the door, biting his lip against the chill that came crashing into him, surrounding him with coldness. It was winter, and he hated wintertime. It was cold, the ground was always slippery, and he always had to wear more clothing than usual, then end up taking off half of it while he was working because it was always so warm there.

            Working at a software company was a drag sometimes, but his expertise in coding made him a reliable employee nonetheless. The pay was great as well. He would just sit in a cubicle and fix people’s mistakes all day (and unfortunately, there were always many mistakes). It was perfect for shut-in like him, and he wouldn’t need to interact with many people at all. His cold attitude didn’t help him make any friends either.

He all but dragged himself to work today, too caught up in the feeling of losing him again. He couldn’t do anything to make Yata remember him.

_“Hey, want to know something funny?” Yata said one day. Fushimi just looked at him, urging him on with his eyes. “Since I never remember my dreams, I’ve started writing in this small notebook…” he laughed. “It’s still hard though. I usually never have anything consistent. I always just remember the color blue and a smile…”_

Fushimi flipped that statement around his head all day. He barely got his assignments done, and when he did it was 8 in the evening. Awashima congratulated everyone with sweets and Fushimi simply went home, not even bothering to take a bite out of any of the assortment of mini cakes put on his desk. He looked at his expertly-drawn sketch of Yata and smiled.

“Misaki is probably waiting for me…” he mused.

 

_________  
  


            When he saw Yata bounding up to him, he knew what was coming next.

            “Hi! May I know your name?” Yata asked, his smile bright. It was painful for Fushimi.

            “Someone you know…” Fushimi smirked. “Mi-sa-ki.”

            Yata was surprised. “H-hey… how do you know my name?” He was dumbfounded. He didn’t know the boy dressed in black and blue in front of him. His glasses made it hard to decipher what his eyes would surely reveal, and half of his face was covered by his midnight blue hair.

            He was the exact opposite of Yata, who had a white long-sleeve shirt with a red jacket wrapped around his waist. His beanie was black, though, so maybe they weren’t total opposites. Their height difference was painstakingly obvious, though.

            “Don’t call me Misaki.” Yata said, pouting unconsciously. Fushimi could only laugh at how adorable his face was.

            “Nope, you’re my Misaki.” He said simply. Yata grumbled, but didn’t leave anyhow. The boy in blue put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped, but didn’t make a move to remove the hand.

            “What’s your name?” Misaki asked him. Fushimi only shrugged and threw the boy a half-smile.

            "It’s been so long, yet you don’t recall my name…” he said, faking being hurt by Yata’s words. In truth, it did hurt. It was painful. Fushimi was almost certain that he loved this boy in his dreams. Yata had been in his dreams for as long as he can remember. He was his only friend. He could tell him anything, and he would. He’d tell him everything, every night.

            And Yata wouldn’t remember a thing the next morning.

            He knew Yata was a real person though. He just _knew_. He wasn’t from this world though. Something didn’t sit right with the _reality_ of Yata being someone he could see in the real world. But for now, for every ‘now’ in the past, present, and future, he’ll bury those emotions and let this uncontrollable _love_ for this redhead lead the dream. He’ll deceive himself into being happy, and let the tears roll off his cheek in the morning. Like always.

            Yata dropped the topic and moved to stand next to him, effectively making Fushimi remove his hand from Yata’s shoulder. They were on top of a grassy hill overlooking a town.

            “Want to grab a cup of coffee?” Fushimi asked. Yata shrugged. They walked down the grassy hill, towards the town, and after a long, silent walk they came across a small, dainty looking coffee shop. They stepped in, and was greeted by an elderly woman who sat in a chair behind the counter.

            Yata walked up to the counter, clearly clueless as to what to buy. Fushimi smiled. He was always like that, because he doesn’t like coffee. After pondering over the menu, Fushimi decided to order for them both. “Two medium white chocolate lattes.” He said expertly. Yata stared at him.

            “What?” Yata asked. “How did you-”

            “I know all there is to know about my Misaki…” Yata blushed, but didn’t bother to ask the boy how he even knew Yata, let alone knew that was the only coffee he’d ever drink.

            When their coffees arrived, they sat next to the window and looked out at the scenery. Of course, since it was a dream, only people with blurry faces passed by. It was kind of weird, being out in the open like this, but Fushimi didn’t mind as long as Yata was with him.

            Fushimi pulled out a wooden stick from a can and started maneuvering around some milk he poured into the latte. When he was finished, Yata stared, awestruck at the hiragana character sitting on top of the way-too-hot coffee. It was surrounded by leaves and a flower.

            “Sa…?” Yata was confused.

            “Sa.”

            “Sa?”

            Fushimi smiled. “Try to remember it.”

            “Sa.”

            “Yes.”

            Yata was smiling at the thought of the syllable, and Fushimi sat there, waiting for Yata to speak again.

            “So are you going to explain why I need to remember that?” Yata asked, the smile still lingering in his eyes as he turned to look at Fushimi. He only shrugged.

            “Put it in your notebook,” he murmured, “please.”

   
_________

 

            Yata woke up calmly this time, and immediately reached out for the notebook.

            “S…a?” he was shaking. “or… ki?” He put down both characters and flopped back onto the bed. Why? Why is that all he can remember?

_Streaks of blue, and green_. _Green. Coffee? No, I must be thinking too hard._

            Yata rose to his feet. He was certain he was just thinking too hard. It was a dream after all. A dream that he could never remember, but always left a streak of blue on his mind.

            “Ah, screw it!” Yata yelled, jumping out of bed and stomping over to the bathroom to brush his teeth and take a shower. It was frustrating. He felt like a child for even being bothered by all of this. Sa? Ki? What’s so important about it?

            He still wrote it in his notebook though.

            After showering, quickly dried himself off and put his clothes on. It was chilly, so he put on a vest over his usual white shirt, and unconsciously left his red jacket sprawled out on the table. He made himself a sandwich to eat on the way out, and quickly left the apartment to go to work.      It was chilly out, so there was probably going to be a lot of people at the coffee shop today.

            When he walked into the café, he immediately got hit with the aroma of coffee. He hated coffee, though. He didn’t like the bitter taste of it in his mouth.

            White chocolate, though, he loved. And he tolerated lattes that were flavored that way.

            Well, no. He likes it. A lot. That was the only drink he ever liked to make. So why was he a barista when he hated coffee? The pay was great here, the manager was nice, and he loved his co-workers. It was as simple as that.

            “Yata!” Kusanagi greeted him. He was always manning the coffee machines on his own when Yata wasn’t around. “C’mon! We got orders to fill!” He smiled.

            “Coming!” Yata called out, going to the back of the shop and dumping all his belongings into a locker before taking his vest off and putting an apron on.

            The day dragged on like that, with orders being hollered out and cups being shaken and brewers quietly whirring. It was a busy, busy day for Yata, and he was tired when his shift ended. Kusanagi’s shift overlaps Yata’s but he’s still left alone to do the work by himself for two more hours.

            After the next barista took over, he sat in the back for a while, catching his breath. It was already so late. He had to go grocery shipping pretty soon too. When he felt good to go, he picked up his belongings and left the café. After stopping by the supermarket and picking up a week’s worth of food, he went home and prepared dinner.

            “Hm... vegetable soup sounds perfect for tonight.” Despite everything, Yata loved to cook. It was his stress reliever. Looking over the small pot of soup he’s making he hummed a tune he heard play in the café.

            “ _Machi nozomu, atatakakute yasashii haru no kakera…”_ he started to sing. He couldn’t wait for spring to come. Winter was cold and there was snow everywhere. Spring was warmer and the flowers would be popping out all over the place, coloring the white, white world.

            When the soup was finished, he ate alone and afterwards tidied up his small apartment. When everything was clean, he took a shower and did his laundry at a laundromat across the street before finally laying down on his bed.

            “Sa…ki…” he turned the characters over in his head. “Was it sa, or ki?”

            He kept thinking and thinking, but his head was hurting and he was exhausted from all the running around he had to do today.

   
_________

 

            Again he felt like he was fully conscious of everything. He was on a hill, overlooking a city that seemed all too quiet. He spun around, taking in the bright blue sky and the soft green of the hill. As he spun around and around, taking in everything, he noticed a speck of darker blue in the distance. He ran up to it, curious to see what would be so dark against this bright landscape, only to find it was a boy with midnight blue hair and a tall lean stature, quietly overlooking the scenery.

            Yata couldn’t help it. He was the only other person he’s seen since he was here. “Hello! May I know your name?” He bounced up to him, attempting to make himself friendly. The figure turned to him and smiled.

            “Misaki, don’t you remember your best friend?” he looked smug and Yata had a fleeting feeling of meeting him before.

_No, it can’t be._ He’s never seen this guy before.

            “You know my name…?” For some reason, this didn’t bother Yata at all.

            “I’ve known your name for so long, now, Mi-sa-ki.” He leaned in towards Yata, and their faces were mere centimeters apart.

            “O-oh.” Was all Yata could muster up. He had this urge to lean in, just a _little_ , but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he watched as the other boy pulled away and looked at something over Yata’s shoulder.

            “Let’s stay here for tonight.” He said, and Yata couldn’t help but agree. He sat next to the mysterious boy.

            “What season do you think it is here?” the boy asked him, leaning to rest his head on Yata’s head. This felt right, for some reason. Yata didn’t even _know_ this person, but he felt comfortable enough to let him be touched by this person, and it scared Yata. It scared him, but he was met by the temptation go being the other boy closer, to touch him a little more. He would never do that, though.

            “It’s spring, right?” Yata asked, looking for reassurance from the taller boy. He felt a smile form on the taller boy’s face without even needing to look.

            “Yeah... do you know how to write it?”

            “Well of course I do! It’s easy!” He took a stick and starting drawing the character for spring on the ground. Yata was surprised to see the other boy rub out his masterpiece and start writing phonetics in its place.

            “Ha… ru…” he murmured. “Can you remember that last character?”

            “Ru?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Ru.”

            “Yup.”

            “Why?”

            “It’s something important for you to remember when you wake up.”

            “What do you mean?” Yata couldn’t help but ask. He’d remember this dream, wouldn’t he?

            “Remember... remember…” The tall boy laughed. “Remember…”

            “Okay okay, I get it!” Yata exclaimed, overwhelmed by this boy’s need to make sure he remembered this one character.

            “Thank you…” he replied. Yata looked frustrated.

            “Can I know your name now?” He asked the boy, who in return managed to put his head onto Yata’s shoulder. He nuzzled it affectionately, sending shivers down Yata’s spine.

            “In two days’ time.”

   
_________

 

            Fushimi wasn’t even sure if Yata kept track of the characters he spelled out for the redhead.

            He wasn’t sure about anything anymore, honestly.

            But if it would help him remember at least one thing about him, then so be it. At least one little part of him. If he could make Yata remember just that…

            “Maybe I should just tell him.” He mused, knowing all too well that even if he did that it wouldn’t reach far enough into his memory.

_Writing down characters is an easier task, easy for that airhead hopefully._

            He went through his usual routine, and went to work. It was the same as every day, with his superiors breathing down his neck and complaining about all the work that’s piled up. At the end of the day, they’d be patting his back and thanking him for saving their project, then return to complaining yet again come morning.

            He returned to his apartment with a convenience store bento in his hand. After picking out all of the vegetables and flipping through TV channels, he settled for a random interview and started eating his food.

            The interviewer looked bored and started mulling over the questions.

            “Question 2… please say your age. Wait, I don’t think it’s even necessary to do all the questions.” The interviewer said. “19. Next, your date of birth and your zodiac sign. This isn’t necessary either. July 20. Cancer. Next. Question 4. Blood type. B.             Question 5. Your height. 167-“

            “Wait!” the interviewee exclaimed. “Why are you answering all my questions? How do you even _know_ all the answers? Are you even listening to me?”

            The interviewer sighed. “Next question…”

            Fushimi turned off the TV. It reminded him a lot about him and Yata for some reason. How he knew so much about Yata, but Yata didn’t even know-

            He shoved the thought away. He didn’t want to drown in his own self-pity before going to see him. The sun was already gone, and the moon shone brightly above the buildings surrounding the complex. He closed the curtains and lay back on his bed, completely forgetting about taking off his day-clothes.

            He slowly drifted off to sleep, wondering how he would bring up the next syllable.

   
_________

 

            Yata was laying down on the grass when Fushimi spotted him. Fushimi wished he could take a photo, but things like that don’t transfer out of the dream world sadly. He prayed that Yata wouldn’t ask for his name again. He hated it when he asked that question, because it always acted as assurance that he really didn’t remember a thing about Fushimi. And that made him terribly upset. So this time, he greeted Yata first.

            “Mi-sa-ki” he sang. Yata immediately sat up.

            “Wha-what?” he stuttered. “M-my name… you know it?”

            “Of course I know the name of the one person in the world I love.”

            Yata blushed. “Wha-what-“

            He looked out at the scenery; it was dark this time. The stars were shining so bright it almost made his eyes hurt. Or maybe they were hurting for a different reason. He pushed the thought away. He was here to see his Misaki, not to cry over the apparent amnesia the redhead had.

            “Sing me a song.” Fushimi murmured, sitting next to Yata. “The star song.”

            Yata’s blush didn’t disappear. “Wh-why me?”

            “Kirakira…” he started.

            “Hikaru,” Yata completed the sentence. “osora no hoshi yo.”

            “Mabataki shita wa, minna wo miteru” they sang together. “Kirakira hikaru, osora no hoshi yo…”

            Yata was struck by Fushimi’s voice.

            “You sound amazing..” Yata said, looking away. Fushimi was aware of his voice being something that was pleasant to listen to, but he made no intention of singing in front of anyone other than Yata.

            “To shine..” Fushimi said, looking up at the sky. “Like a star.”

            “What?”

            “To shine… hikaru.”

            “Yeah. That’s what it means.”

            “Hi.”

            “What?”

            “Hi.”

            “What’s so important about it?”

            “Hi. Your notebook. You have two other letters, right?”

            “What!? How’d you…” Yata faltered. Worry was written all over Yata’s face. It was apparent that he hadn’t told anyone about that notebook, so Fushimi knowing about it probably was something to worry about. Except for the fact that he really did tell Fushimi about the notebook many nights ago.

            “I know a lot about my Misaki.” He smiled. He started singing again,this time a different song. The moon also needed some time to shine.

          _“Tsukareta nara kata no ni wo oroshite,_  
_ima dake wa iu yo, oyasumi,_  
_yami wo saku moonlight,_  
_michibiku hikari wo boku ga terasu kara.”_

            Yata listened intently to the words coming out of Fushimi’s mouth.

            “Hi..” Yata murmured, drawing out the syllable.

   
_________

 

            Yata woke up and write down the character for hi.

            “Sa... ru... hi? Or Ki-ru-hi?” He looked at the mess of characters. He sighed.

            “Probably Sa-ru-hi.” He said nonchalantly before getting up to get ready for work. Nothing special happened today either. He was greeted by the usual, ate the usual, and fell asleep like usual.

   
_________

 

            Yata noticed that it was nighttime in his dream, and he couldn’t help but wander around the hill in the dim light of the moon and stars. A boy in black and blue wandered up to him and asked him to sit down with him on the cool grass.

            “Misaki, I’m awfully tired tonight.” He said, putting his hand around Misaki’s. He didn’t mind at all for some reason. He relished the feeling of his hand being surrounded by this boy’s. He didn’t bother wondering why he knew Yata’s name either, because the day just seemed too _serene_ and he didn’t want to ruin it.

            “Why don’t you go lay down and sleep for a while?” Yata said, looking out towards the bright, bright city.

            “Because you’re here…” he murmured, but he laid down on the grass anyways. Yata followed, laying on his side so he was facing this mysterious boy. After a moment of silence the boy in blue spoke. “You know, Misaki, I really like you.”

            “What?” He didn’t understand what was happening. The boy wasn’t looking at Yata, but he probably knew he that Yata was looking at him, dumbfounded by the sudden confession. _Was this guy confessing how love for him? Why? Who is he? Why do I want to hold his hand all of a sudden?_

            The boy in blue lay back onto the grass and closed his eyes. “As long as I have your attention, even if it’s just here…”

            Yata didn’t understand at all. _Here? Why? Who was he?_

            “My heart hurts.” The boy said suddenly.

            “W-what’s wrong?” Yata said, unsure of what else he could say.

            “My heart hurts.” He repeated. “It’s like every day I get to see the person I love, and every day I have to say goodbye to that person…”

            “You’ll see them again though, I’m sure of it.”

            The boy laughed and turned to look at Yata. “You’re right. I _do_ get to see him every day. Every. Single. Day.” He broke eye contact with Yata and looked up at the moon. “But he doesn’t remember me. He never does.” Yata noticed his voice straining and he couldn’t help but to comb his fingers through the boy’s dark hair. The boy looked surprised, but closed his eyes and sighed after registering what was happening. A faint blush spread across both of their cheeks, but neither made a move to end the sudden affection Yata was showing towards this stranger.

            “This is calming,” the boy murmured after a while. “Your touch is calming my heart…”

            Yata blushed a little deeper. “A-as long as it’s helping you…”

            He smiled. “Of course it is. Ko..ko..ro..”

            “Hm?” Yata was confused. _What was wrong with his heart?_

“The ko…” he explained. “… in _kokoro_. Remember it.

            “Ko?”

            “Yes.” The boy in blue smiled.

            “Why?” He was confused.

            “It’ll answer a question you’ve been asking me for years.”

            “Ko?”

            “Yes, _ko_.”

            Yata remembered to hold on to that syllable with all his might.

   
_________

 

            Something seemed really off today.

            Fushimi was bothered by this feeling all day, and he wouldn’t know why. He made it to work, and looked at his drawing of Yata on his desk. He remembered Yata combing his fingers through his hair, and reveled in the feeling for as long as he could before needing to go back to focusing on his work.

            It bothered him though. As if the drawing was telling him something bad was coming. To be prepared.

            _I’m here, I’m here. I’m here for you. Remember that._

   
_________

 

            Yata was bothered just as much, but he was overjoyed as well.

            He finally put the pieces together.

Ko.

            _Saruhiko._

            Somehow the name made his heart flutter. Saruhiko. He had a name. A faceless name, but a name stained with the sensation of streaks of blue and green and _love_. He couldn’t wait to get through the day and go to bed. There was something about these dreams that always had him wanting to go to bed as soon as possible. There was something about the blue that made him crave more.

            He loved the blue that colored his thoughts.

 

            Snow was piled up on the streets today, and it made Yata uncomfortable. There was something that tugged at his side every time he looked to the streets of the city. Something was wrong.

            He had decided to work overtime that day, and by the time his shift ended, it was dark outside.  The area was relatively quiet, but his mind was buzzing on about this _Saruhiko_ and the streaks of blue and green he would always recall when he woke up.

            He was excited, too excited, and when he suddenly saw those streaks of green and blue and the hills and the sky, he _knew._

   
_________

 

            Fushimi was waiting. But something didn’t feel right. The city looked different, the green wasn’t as bright, and the blue of the sky turned depressingly grey. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of dread that was sweeping over the place. Was it going to rain today? He walked a ways away from the tree that stood high and proud on top of the hill, and was about to start heading into the city when he noticed Yata running up to him. He ran, ran, ran towards Fushimi, and when he was finally caught up he hugged Fushimi tightly. His whole body was trembling.

            Something was wrong. He felt like crying, but he didn’t know why. He was excited to hear Yata speak his name, but when he did, his heart started breaking.

            “ _Saruhiko”_ Yata hiccupped. “Saruhiko…”

            Fushimi felt a tear threaten to spill down his cheek. _Finally._ Finally he would hear his name tinged with Yata’s voice. He was happy, so _so_ happy, but so, _so_ sad at the same time, and it made no sense. He felt so gloomy, but _why?_

            “Saru… Saru… I’m so happy… I’m so sorry…” Yata was crying. Fushimi froze. “Saru... Saru… I _remember._ I remember everything.” Fushimi was puzzled, but he embraced Yata as tightly as he could, unwilling to let go of this awkward boy – _his_ awkward boy. “Saru… you’ve been my friend all along, haven’t you? You’re always waiting here for me... You’re always smiling and making sure I’m happy. You’re always taking me places I’ve already been to so many times, even though I don’t remember ever going there…” He was sobbing. “Thank you for loving me so much. Thank you for taking good care of me. Thank you, thank you, _thank you_. But… but this might be the last time we see each other.”

            Fushimi’s breath hitched. _No,_ was all Fushimi could think. _No, I’m not losing you._ But he knew. He knew Yata was saying the truth. The world around them grieved with Yata. There wasn’t anything anybody could do to stop the inevitable.

            “You see,” Misaki tried to stop crying for a moment. “I was excited to see you. I was excited because I remembered something. I finally had something to remember. Y’know, it’s funny how I can remember everything now, but it won’t help either of us out anymore.” He laughed awkwardly. “Especially you…”

            “ _No.”_ Fushimi was shaking. He spent nineteen years’ worth of painfully beautiful nights with this idiot, and he finally remembered his name. He _finally_ heard Yata say his name in a dream, _without_ his assistance. He _finally_ had Yata. “Misaki-“

            “Sing me another song.” Yata said suddenly. “Sing me a song…”

            Fushimi refused to. “No. _No_. If I do, you’re going to go away, aren’t you?”

            “Who knows?” Yata spoke into Fushimi’s shirt. “Maybe I can stay in your dreams forever. I hope I can. I want to see you grow up and be a good boy. You’re smart, aren’t you?”

            “Mi-misaki.” He couldn’t control the tears any more. He was hurting so much before, and he’s hurting so much more now. He’s losing Yata again, but it’s different this time. He’s losing him for good. His heart constricted, refusing to allow Fushimi to breathe properly. He has to heave, has to pass the hiccups, and has to force air through his sore throat, just to be able to breathe through the darkness that seemed to surround them.

            “Misaki, come back.” Fushimi said, shuddering. “Come back, come back, I _love_ you. So _please, please_ come back.”

            “How can I come back if I’m _dead?_ ” Yata’s voice was tinged with red; with anger. “I’m gone now Saru. I can’t come back. I want to stay. I want to see you. I want to tell more stories. I want to travel. I want to _live_. But we can’t always get what we want, now can we?” Tears were still spilling down his face as he looked into Fushimi’s eyes. “You know, your eyes are beautiful…”

            Fushimi couldn’t say anything. He was trying desperately to hold back his tears, though he was failing miserably, because the hazel eyes in front of him were crying. They were crying for _him_. Yata knows that Fushimi wouldn’t be able to let go. Yata knows that he might never let go of Misaki. Ever.

            “Hey, please sing me a song.”

            After a lot of thinking, Fushimi let go of Yata and tugged his arm, beckoning him towards the tree they always sat under. They sat there, Yata cradled in Fushimi’s arms, clutching Fushimi’s shirt as if holding onto it would prevent him from ever leaving his side. In turn, Fushimi held tightly onto Yata, as if letting go would end the world.

_“Nee, konnani osoku ni  gomen ne  
              Nee, anata ni  tsutaetai koto ga aru no…”_

            Yata listened intently, loving the warmth surrounding the two of them. The darkness seemed to slowly fade, replaced by the feeling of _love_ and _compassion_.

_“Nee, anata wa oboeteiru kana  
             Kudaranai hanashi wo itsumademo kiite kureta”_

            He felt Fushimi nuzzle the top of Yata’s head, and he couldn’t help but nuzzle Fushimi’s neck, burying himself in the blues and blacks and breathing in Fushimi’s scent. Tears left wet spots all over, but neither of them minded. They just needed to be with each other, just a little while longer. For as long as they possibly could.

_“Hora harukaze ga toorisugi, ame ga furi_  
_Yagate natsu ga sugi aki ga kite, kisetsu wa meguru yo_  
_Anata ga ite kureta kara, kokoro ni hana ga saita_

_Omoi wo tsunaide, zutto zutto_  
_Anata ga doko ka ni, kienai you ni_  
_Anata ga mata, waratte kuretara_  
_Kitto sore dake de, daijoubu da kara”_

            Fushimi’s breathing became more stable now, but his voice hitched ever so slightly as he sang. This was his farewell present to the boy he loved, after all. He had to pour out every ounce of feeling he possibly could into this song. He had to be strong for Yata’s sake. He had to let Yata know _just how long_ he’s been in love with Yata.

_“Nee, ashita ni nattara, anata ni  
            Aa, aenaku naru you na ki ga shite_

_Yasashii egao, omoidashi, me wo tojite_  
_Dakedo  doushite mo nemurezu ni  miageta hoshizora_  
_Moshimo deatte inakereba  konnani itaku nakatta”_

            Yata knew that Fushimi was struggling to finish the song. As Fushimi sang, Yata brought his arms up to wrap around Fushimi’s neck, and Fushimi immediately welcomed him. Yata felt Fushimi wrap his arms around his waist, and Yata moved so that they were facing each other. They both had their faces buried in one another, but Fushimi kept singing, despite his voice cracking more and more as the song resonated through the quiet night’s air.

_“Itsuka wa sono te mo  sono nukumori mo_  
_Todokanai basho e  kiete shimau no_  
_Mawaru hoshi no  honno katasumi de_  
_Futari  iki wo suru  hanarenai you ni_

_Waratta koto mo naita koto mo_  
_Kinou no you ni omoidaseru_  
_Dare ni nani wo iwarete mo_  
_Kore wa watashi dake no takaramono"_

            Yata felt Fushimi’s grip tighten. Yata was struggling now too, trying his hardest not to cry as Fushimi sang heartbreakingly into his hair. Yata, feeling brave, started trailing kisses around Fushimi’s neck. He knew he was leaving puddles of tears on his skin, but he didn’t mind. He felt Fushimi stiffen, then move so that Yata had better access to him. Yata smiled.

_"Omoi wo tsunaide, zutto zutto_  
_Anata ga doko ka ni  kienai you ni_  
_Anata ga mata  waratte kuretara_  
_Kitto sore dake de”_

_“Kono te wo_  
_Tsunaide_  
_Watashi wo_  
_Tsunaide”_

            “I love you.” Yata said, resting his check against Fushimi’s shoulder. “I love you, I love you, I love you. _So much_.”

_“Nee, arigatou  gomen ne  
            Oyasumi.”_

            As the last note trailed off, Yata felt lighter. They both felt lighter. Fushimi held tightly onto Yata, and Yata felt brave yet again, pulling away just enough to rest his forehead on Fushimi’s. Surprisingly, Fushimi leaned forward enough to plant the softest and sweetest of kisses onto Yata’s lips, and when Fushimi pulled away, Yata couldn’t help but cry harder than ever. Fushimi’s eyes reflected Yata’s face, and Yata couldn’t help but cry more at the fight of his newfound love crying so much, _grieving_ so much, for him. He wanted to stay. He wanted to comfort him. He wanted Fushimi to smile.

            “Saru” he sang, “smile for me, would you?”

            Fushimi tried desperately to smile, despite his lips quivering. It was enough to Yata, though, because he saw Fushimi’s love for him reflecting off of every part of him. Yata made sure to mimic that, pouring every bit of his love to this stranger-

            No, he wasn’t a stranger. He is his friend. He is his lover.

            He is his last farewell.

            And as the dream seemed to be drawing to a close, Yata cupped Fushimi’s cheeks with his hands and kissed him tenderly. Fushimi reciprocated, pulling Yata in as close as he could. He wouldn’t let go. Ever. He spent too long, _far_ too long, with this boy. He had so many more nights to go before they could see each other again.

_Will Misaki be waiting for me? Will he watch over me? Will I see him in my dreams?_

            Fushimi broke the kiss and broke down in Fushimi’s hands. Tears spilled and spilled, his voice resonating across the landscape, staining the cold night air with his cries.

            “Misaki, Misaki… I love you, I love you…” was all Fushimi could say at this point.

            The sun was peeking through the horizon, staining the previously depressing sky with hues of red and blue.

            “I love you, I love you, I love you…” Yata kept repeating. “Remember, remember, remember…”

            “Remember that I’ll always love you, okay?”


End file.
